


Lakehaven Lattes

by randomwriter57



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Journalism, Journalist and Barista AU, love at first latte lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 18:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14360793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomwriter57/pseuds/randomwriter57
Summary: What Rose does not expect, walking down the quiet side-street towards the few shops in the area, is to findLakehaven Lattes.





	Lakehaven Lattes

**Author's Note:**

> This fic wasn't originally written for this fandom, let alone this pair, but I modified it for Rose and Alisha because it fits them way better. I wrote it a while ago, but I still like it (surprisingly). Hopefully you guys will enjoy it too!

Part of the reason why Rose dislikes using public WiFi networks is because of her browser history.

Not that it’s inappropriate, usually. It’s more that she has a tendency to slam her thoughts into Google in all-caps, and sometimes her brain comes up with the strangest things. Take, for instance, a relatively recent search for _‘coffee shops in Ladylake’_ , which quickly deteriorated into _‘why is it so hard to find a niche coffee shop in Ladylake’_ , and then further into _‘why does the editor want me to write about niche coffee shops in Ladylake anyway’_.

Rose gave up the internet search relatively quickly.

(At least coffee shops aren’t suspicious. Certainly not so much as using public WiFi to research for an article about the strangest murder weapons ever used had been.

Granted, that one had been her idea.)

Despite her harboured grudge against public WiFi, that doesn’t stop her from avoiding cafes which don’t have WiFi at all. Call it what you will, but Rose prefers having the option of being connected over losing options of work to do because of a lack of resources.

Perhaps that’s why she’s avoided this cafe for so long. Not only did it used to look like a 1950s cult horror film set; it also had all the features of one. Including a lack of WiFi.

To be fair, it’s also a ways away from Rose’s apartment, and there isn’t much point in travelling halfway across Ladylake to visit such a travesty as _The Old Bean Cafe_.

(Even the name puts her off. Who wants to drink coffee made of old beans?)

One day, however, Rose finds herself in that far-off area of Ladylake, where _The Old Bean Cafe_ and not much else is situated.

(Except, apparently, her editor’s house. Somehow, the image of Zaveid living in such an aged area is fitting. Then again, that’s not something she should point out, with him being her boss. Or maybe she will, next time. Just for fun.)

The cacophony of traffic sounds and her grumbling stomach cry a banshee’s song. It’s barely past five in the evening, the sun only just beginning its descent to the west, and she can’t bring herself to sit in traffic for an hour before she even gets a chance to think about eating. And, unfortunately, her only option seems to be _The Old Bean Cafe_.

_Hey,_ she tries to tell herself, _maybe it will surprise you._

Then she recalls the image of the cafe.

_Or maybe it’ll be out of business. Either sounds good._

What Rose does not expect, walking down the quiet side-street towards the few shops in the area, is to find _Lakehaven Lattes_.

Where _The Old Bean_ used to sag, there now stands an entirely different cafe. Its visage is a mix of the modern hipster aesthetic and vintage cafe-chic, a sloping canopy hanging over the door, bearing the cafe’s name. Along the front hang pots of dangling green plants, and the poles holding up the canopy are wrapped with ivy. The windows reveal chunky mahogany tables with cushioned chairs, most which which appear to be vacant. There’s no menu or opening times advertised, so Rose assumes the place is open and heads inside.

As soon as she opens the door, she can tell she’s in a cafe of a completely different kind. The air feels fresh with the scent of the plants dotted around the room, and though the rich smell of coffee pervades that freshness, it’s not overpowering. In fact, it gives the place a warm atmosphere, despite its emptiness. Maybe the fairy lights strung across the ceiling help with that. Or maybe it’s the choice in decor, the red carpet, or the beige walls, decorated with art in what looks like a theme of ‘fancy coffee’. Or perhaps the soft music playing over speakers might be what truly makes the cafe feel so vibrant.

In any case, she is surprised to see that she is the only person in the cafe. There are no patrons, and even the coffee bar is not currently manned, possibly due to the lack of customers. Even if this area is quiet, she would have expected one or two people to be here, especially at this time of the day.

She moves towards the counter, raking the chalk menus with her eyes, taking in her options. Despite this being a small cafe, there seems to be a good choice in drinks, and even a nice range of food. Perhaps the range is a good thing; it takes her a while to decide what to order, and by the time she does, a member of staff finally notices her presence, as the door behind the counter opens.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there! I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

Rose looks down and meets the eyes of the barista, and suddenly she’s very glad that she came here.

The barista has sand blond hair caught in a wavy ponytail, with a couple of ringlets framing her face alongside her fringe. For a uniform, she wears a white polo shirt under a baby pink apron, embroidered with the symbol of a latte mug with a heart-shaped handle. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, shrinking under Rose’s scrutiny.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rose says, smiling. “Are you still serving food?”

“Yes, we serve food until seven,” the barista replies. “What would you like?”

Rose places her order, and the barista tells her to take a seat wherever she’d like.

And sure, there’s a lot of choice. She could claim a whole sofa as her own, if she wanted. Or she could sit in one of the chairs by the window, let people know that yes, this cafe is open and does have customers. But in the end, she grabs a seat at the end of the bar.

(No, it’s totally not because she wants to talk to the cute barista.)

The barista busies herself with making Rose’s latte, her focus so entirely on the machines and foam and preparation that she doesn’t seem to notice the small smile which graces her lips. Rose notices, though, and her heart feels ready to burst at the sight.

(Oh, who is she kidding. She loves this barista, and they’ve barely spoken for a minute.)

It only takes a few minutes for her drink to be ready. The barista startles when she sees Rose’s choice of seat, and a pink flush graces her cheeks for a moment before she composes herself, setting the latte in front of her gently.

“So your cups don’t actually have heart-shaped handles, then?” Rose says, pointing to the regular round handle with a grin.

For a moment, the barista frowns in confusion, before looking down at the emblem on her apron. “Oh, no, my manager couldn’t find any. I apologise if you’re disappointed.”

Rose laughs. “It’s fine.”

The barista smiles and heads back through the door into the back area, probably to prepare the food Rose ordered. Not that she ordered much - only a curry dish she’s sure comes in a tub, pre-made. Even if she’s hungry, she didn’t want to inconvenience this poor worker, who probably thought she’d get off with a quiet day of business.

Luckily, her hunch is right, and the barista returns in only five minutes with her food. Rose thanks her, and the barista moves to the other side of the counter to wash some dishes. As much as Rose wants to speak to the barista more, her hunger takes priority right now. Without hesitation, she takes a bite of the curry.

_Oh my god_ , she thinks.

It’s a taste explosion. She’s had curry before, and rice, sure, but never combined in such a delicious dish. Part of her wonders why she’s never eaten this before, and the other half racks her memory for the name of this dish so she can make it her only meal for the rest of her life.

The barista glances over, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Is everything alright with your food?”

“It’s amazing! What is it?”

“It’s mabo curry. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” She turns back to the sink, leaving Rose to finish her meal in peace.

For once, Rose doesn’t take long to finish her meal, or the latte accompanying it. It’s only once she puts her fork down that she feels a tinge of regret for eating so fast. Now she doesn’t have an excuse to stay to talk to the barista.

But she can come up with one.

The barista takes her bowl and mug, leaving them by the sink as she rings up her food. Rose absentmindedly pays for her food, still raking through her mind for an excuse.

Until she suddenly finds one.

“Can I get your number?” she blurts.

The barista blinks at her, eyes wide in shock. “S-sorry?”

_Shit_ , she thinks.

“Er, what I meant to say was that I’m a journalist,” Rose explains. “I’m working on an article about niche coffee shops in Ladylake, and I honestly didn’t know this place existed until today. I thought it was still _The Old Bean_.”

“ _The Old Bean_ closed down two years ago,” the barista says. “Sorry for interrupting you. Go on?”

“I wondered if you would mind me interviewing you about this place,” Rose says. “I didn’t mean to ask for your number without any explanation, sorry.”

“Oh.” The barista blinks, green eyes shining with confusion. “Wouldn’t you prefer to speak to a manager?”

“It’s better to get the opinions of someone with less bias,” Rose says. In her mind, she adds, _Besides, it gives me an excuse to speak to you again._

“Well, if you’re sure,” the barista says. She pulls her phone out of the pocket of her apron and pulls up the contacts page before passing it to Rose. “I’ll put mine in your phone, and I’ll text you with my free days.”

“Thanks!” Rose grins, passing her own phone over after navigating to the ‘new contact’ page. She moves her focus to Alisha’s phone, making sure to add emojis to the end of her name before deleting them, remembering that doing so would be unprofessional, and that the barista is supposed to be a source, not a love interest.

(Not that she would mind her being both.)

A minute later, they both have their own phones back in their hands, and Rose smiles at the name on her screen.

“Thank you, Alisha,” she says, standing from her seat. “See you again soon.”

“And the same to you,” Alisha says, glancing down at her own phone before continuing. “Goodbye, Rose.”

When Rose leaves the cafe, the sky is streaked with gold. She can’t keep the grin off her face as she walks down the street with the thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to go out of her way more often.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me [@luzrofrulay](http://twitter.com/luzrofrulay) on twitter / [@luzrof-rulay](http://luzrof-rulay.tumblr.com) on tumblr for more Tales Of ramblings | [@randomactuallywrites-57](http://randomactuallywrites-57.tumblr.com) on tumblr for more writing!


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